Valentine's Day
by AnnaRinzler
Summary: What happens when Slade comes back from the dead and attempts to reunite with his former partner in crime? And what happens when he finds out that Dr. Amelia Valentine isn't exactly happy to see him? Discover a new side to Slade and the Titans themselves.
1. Chapter 1

Valentine's Day Chapter 1

She felt guilty for watching the clock in the back of the room, but Professor Valentine craved her freedom on Friday afternoons as much as any of her students. And this particular Friday was a slow one. The twenty-five Biology majors slouching in front of the Doctor's lecture podium weren't exactly giving her their full attention and she didn't blame them. The basic processes of DNA transcription and translation were only interesting when applied in one's Junior or Senior year.

"Class dismissed," Dr. Valentine said quickly, allowing her body to sag into the chair behind her just as the clock chimed four p.m.

The kids murmured gratefully and began to pack their things. She remembered being their age. Hell, Valentine was only a few years older than most—not that the good doctor would admit it, of course. But her circumstances were quite different from theirs and always had been. Still, she was living a good life and had a good job, even if her social life had waned in the process of securing it. Before the dark blonde woman realized it, all her students were gone. Dr. Valentine hummed to herself as she flipped open her briefcase, nestling the day's completed lesson plan in with a host of others. The sound of the door at the top of the atrium caught her attention and Valentine's eyes briefly flickered up to the figure shrouded in shadows.

"I'm afraid my office hours are finished for the week," she said courteously, trying hard to be civil to whoever had entered her classroom, "Someone else in the Biology department may be able to help"—

"I don't think so, Amelia."

She flinched when the deep, silky voice invaded her ears, her brain panicking and sending pings of fright throughout her body. Her slim fingers tightened on the clasp of her briefcase and Dr. Valentine stared down at them for a long moment. The ghosts of her past had never been content to let her be, and a pair of green eyes turned up slowly as dread filled the twenty-eight-year-old's core. He stood with his arms crossed, wearing normal clothes—khaki pants and a suit jacket like any teacher might have worn to class. What made him stand out was the empty black cloth covering what should have been his right eye and the head of white hair that was so obviously premature in a man barely in his early forties. When he had died three years ago Amelia had dreamed of him so much that it took medication and liquor to give her a full night's rest. For days after she had heard his voice in her head, driving her mad, and she still conjured the sound of it out of thin air sometimes. But this was the most magnificent delusion of all, standing here in front of her.

"Have a seat," he continued, his tone leaving no room for questions.

"I'm through taking orders from a dead man, Slade," Amelia said, shifting into a defensive stance and narrowing her eyes.

"Suit yourself."

He walked forward, his steps slow and unhurried by the thought of time or any security guards that happened to be wandering around the place. Through her fright Amelia's gaze took him in, marveling that her brain could create a perfect replica of the person her heart had wanted so desperately all those years ago. Amelia let the hallucination of Slade come close, let him tilt her head back and press his lips to hers as she closed her eyes.

"Come with me," he said finally.

She leaned forward and kissed him again. Her body had missed his for a long time, even though she'd suffered more abuse at his hands that she ever had by anyone else's. Amelia felt her wavering resolve crumble and finally give way, aided by the very specific way Slade had of kissing the sensitive skin of her neck.

"I have class," Amelia murmured against his shoulder, her breathing ragged, "Tuesday. There's…a three day weekend but…I have to be back."

"Very well."

He pulled away from her and she felt his sudden absence like a frigid void. Amelia bit her lip and ran back to her desk for her briefcase, turning away to hide the disappointment on her face. Slade had never been a particularly warm person, and she suspected that their impromptu make-out session had only occurred because he wanted her to leave with him. Amelia jogged to keep up with his long strides as they exited the lecture hall and then the nearly-empty building. Luckily they never ran into any of her colleagues. If they had, she definitely would have had to think on the spot. On the one hand, she was still pretty convinced that he was a hallucination brought on by her own sick brain. On the other, if he was real gossip would spread through the school like wildfire. When the pair of them got to her car Slade held out his hand and she wordlessly gave him the keys, walking to the passenger side and taking one last look at Harvard University.

"We're going to the Four Seasons," Slade said, glancing over at the apprehension on her features, "I'll brief you on the situation when we arrive."

**Author's Note: **I changed this chapter for a variety of reasons, the first being that it's extremely similar to another story I'm writing. Another reason is that I didn't like the idea of Slade drugging Amelia…unlike all the other girls in my stories, I'd like to think he has at least a little more respect for Amelia than he does for them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 **

Slade rolled his eye and drummed his fingers on the polished mahogany top of the disgustingly ornate writing desk that had been placed in his hotel room. Both feet, encased in steel-toed boots, were propped up on the desk. He tipped the chair back as far as it would go on two legs and continued to watch Amelia pace the room. She wrung her hands together and her eyes were lowered to the red Persian rug as if the answers to all of her questions were burned into it.

"I can't process this," she said matter-of-factly, "It's…completely out of my field of expertise. I'm an atheist, for fuck's sake."

He sighed. It never sounded natural when she swore, for emphasis or otherwise. It was a contrived gesture designed to make herself feel better, but apparently it wasn't doing the trick. Amelia's mouth was still a grim slash that marred her fair face, and it had remained that way since he'd told the story of his miraculous "rebirth", if one could call it that. sLADE called it luck.

"I would hope that you wouldn't be after all of this," he replied, raising an eyebrow, "Or do you still not think_ I'm_ real? We could get a staff member up here, perhaps"—

"No, no, it's fine," she replied quickly, the ends of her brown hair shining in the light as she shook her head, "I genuinely believe that you're here."

A smug smile crossed his face for a moment. Embarrassment had always been the way to get inside Dr. Valentine's head. Any threat of a public shaming caused the young woman with an IQ of 163 to clam up in an instant. The entertainment value she afforded him was one of the reasons he occasionally tolerated her interruptions.

"Good," he responded matter-of-factly, "I'm starting to believe there _is _a God, and I was evil to him in high school."

His wry comment got a smile out of her for the first time that day. But it also cast a softness over her features that made his own grin quickly fade. He didn't like the way she was looking at him now, and when she cast another fond glance in his direction Slade quickly stood and walked over to the metal suitcase lying on the bed. He'd informed her of the reasons for his return, and now it was time to get down to the real reason he'd brought her here.

"I need you to run samples," Slade began, pulling out a stack of papers written in medical jargon that meant nothing to him, "My skin, hair, blood, everything. There's some sort of factor that's there…a healing factor of sorts that wasn't there before. I can't account for it."

Slade threw the papers on the bed. He pulled out a knife from the pocket of his black pants and Amelia watched as he made a shallow, inch-long incision in his left arm. It healed within seconds. She gasped and ran forward, grabbing his arm with her slender fingers and examining it from every angle. Her hands were soft against his skin.

"Slade, this is amazing! Your cells are regenerating themselves instantaneously! This is _fantastic!" _

"Before you start writing your Nobel acceptance speech, Dr. Valentine, you should understand that under no circumstances are you to tell anyone about this. Are we clear?"

She looked up at him and held her grip on his arm. It was tempting her, that was for sure. Slade had always trusted this particular doctor in the past, but he felt that the current issue needed to be repeated. Amelia nodded and stroked his skin where the incision had been made and he pulled away when he felt she had a grasp on the situation.

"I understand. Does this work for everything? Is it just since you've been brought back to life? How long"—

"I knew you'd be interested," he said, putting a finger to her mouth to silence the barrage of questions, "But it can wait. I'll take you to a lab tomorrow. You'll be compensated for your work, of course."

Slade drew his hand away and walked back to the bed while Dr. Valentine picked up the papers and sat down to begin reading them. Dr. Chang had been given a preliminary look at Slade's blood with the promise of a quick death should he ever reveal this fact. But Slade wanted a true biological specialist to analyze it. At this point though, he was starting to wonder if including Dr. Valentine was such a good idea. Their kiss back at Harvard had been a mistake. He always enjoyed toying with her, and it _had _been an affective way of getting her to go with him, but that was where the benefits ended. He couldn't risk any sort of emotional instability on Amelia's part in case he needed her for some other assignment in the future. It would probably be best if they left out any physical aspect of their work. Slade looked down at her seated figure and cast a cursory glance over her body. She was a lovely girl, shapely and pale, with classical features, and he knew for a fact that she was a virgin. That alone tempted him above anything else. She'd refused him before because of it, and due to his constant need for a challenge he was more tempted than ever to seduce her.

"Who compiled these files?"

"Dr. Chang," Slade replied, grabbing through the hotel's green information binder off the nightstand, "Order us dinner, will you? I'm going to shower. Get me a steak; have them put everything on the credit card."

"Alright," Amelia replied, glancing up at him and nodding once before sticking her nose back in his files.

For once her hungry look wasn't for him; it was for whatever residual magic was left in his blood. She didn't watch as he ran a hand through his hair, didn't look up when he grabbed a change of clothes out of his suitcase and kicked off his boots. Her green eyes stayed affixed to her papers. It annoyed him. The fact that it annoyed him annoyed Slade even more, and he went into the shower to try and wash away whatever odd notions he was starting to have about his temporary employee.


End file.
